Liquid Karma
by thought x crime
Summary: Eighteen years after the fall of Kefka, the Empire has been restored and Cadence Miranda Cole is burdened with the possible death of her parents, as well as helping Ryland Figaro take back his father's kingdom. *Chapter 2 now added!*
1. Liquid Karma - 1

"Liquid Karma" - by Allora Atwater  
  
A/N: Wow! Been along time since I've seen the likes of ff.net! Even then I usually lean towards the FF8 section, but this time, I wanted to try something different. Give it a chance, will ya? This is set 18 years after the original storyline, and be patient - the action will build up over time! Please R&R!   
  
Disclaimer: Don't own FF6, just using it for my story. However, Cadence, Ryland, and all other original character belong solely to ME!  
  
  
  
***  
  
I must've been about six years old when I first heard of my father's dishonorable legacy. The people of Kohlingen were always smiling politely when he passed, my small hand clasped in his much larger one as we made our way through the streets. He would return the gesture with equal respect every time, and every time his back was turned, I'd hear the whipsers. I'll bet he heard them as well, but was disciplined enough to ignore their rude remarks.  
  
"...heard he thieves for a livin'!"  
  
"... nice young girl, Rachel... all his fault..."  
  
"...poor little girl... her and Celes... too good to be hangin' around that..."  
  
Whenever I'd turn my head to contradict them, to tell them that my father was not a thief, and that my mother and I were quite happy living under the roof he provided, he'd gently tug my hand and turn my gaze forward. He told me it wasn't polite to eavesdrop on others' personal business, and that I should tend to my own affairs before I made a fool of myself.  
  
"It's not good to doubt the intentions of others," he began one morning as we made our Sunday trip to the general store. "I once lost faith in someone I loved, and almost ended up losing her. Always assume that people are trustworthy, unless they give you reason to believe otherwise."  
"But Daddy," I protested, struggling to match his swift stride along the cobblestone street. "Do you hear what they say?"  
"Yes." he responded quietly, shifting his gaze to the overcast sky. "And I've been hearing it all my life."  
"It's not true though." I shook my head vigorously. "They don't know nothin'."  
"Don't know anything, you mean," he corrected, pinching my nose when I drew a long, dramatic sigh. I snorted with indignance, and he chuckled. After a few paces, he sobered up again. "You're right sweetie, it's not true. I don't steal things that belong to other people, I claim the treasures that belong to no one and make them my own."  
"So why do people say those mean things about you then?"   
A pensive expression shadowed his face as I craned my neck to look at him. His stature was not particularly tall or commanding, but towered above my meek frame. Father never lied to me about anything, nor did he ever keep the truth from me or my mother. He pulled me off to the side, kneeling down before me and grasping my arms firmly.   
"Sweetie, always remember that people who say things that aren't true are just ignorant. They have nothing better to do than make up stories about events that never happened, and warp others' images to save face for themselves. They don't understand my lifestyle and why I choose to live the way I do. In turn, we don't really understand their background and what causes them to slander others so shamelessly." He stood back up, releasing his sweaty palms and letting me walk of my own accord. "I guess the main thing to remember is to treat others the way you want to be treated."  
  
His words, so selfless and compassionate, struck a chord deep within me that day, in spite of my tender age and budding intellect. My father was not a man of exceptional intelligence, but his sense of justice outlived any of his shortcomings, to which I found none, should I have looked. He was a wonderful human being, and the only person who loved him as much as I did, was my mother. Looking back, I realized how deserving he was of such love and loyalty. Never once did he take his family for granted, and he kept every promise he had the sense to make.   
  
Never would I know what it was like to bask his presence again.  
  
***  
  
"You alright?" he rasped, offering a comforting hand to my numbed skin. His flesh against mine sent chills down my back, the sign of a body long too chaste for its own good. He seemed to notice my discomfort, being able to read me like an open book, and withdrew his digits awkwardly. I sighed heavily, disappointed in myself for not welcoming touch. It had been a long time since I'd felt human contact. I desperately wanted to reach out and cling to him like an affrightened child, to open the dam of my swelling emotions and pour my soul's woes to him. But I knew he had lost just as much, if not more, and could be of little comfort to me. He sat down next to me, slowly, as if in a trance. I pulled my knees up to my chest, hugging them with all my might.  
  
"No," I replied softly. "I'm not alright. I won't be alright for a long time. How 'bout you?"  
His fingers raked back dark tresses, a startling contrast to their usual green. Both of us had to alter our identities since departing from Figaro, and his change was far more drastic than mine. Had I not been so tormented, I would've taken notice to the way his rich brown locks accentuated his green eyes.   
"Not really." he sighed, leaning back in the grass, stretching his arms above his head. "I don't like this."  
"Neither do I," I scoffed, suddenly feeling spiteful towards him, towards life. "But I'm not going to complain about it."  
"You already have," he smiled lightly, having inherited his mother's warm heart. "But that's not the point. In a matter of days, we've lost everything that's ever meant anything to us Cadence. We have no family, we have no place to call home, we have no one who would accept us anywhere. All we have right now is..." He stopped, growing apprehensive.  
"Each other." I finished for him, in a way only I had ever been able to do. Ryland Figaro tended to keep to himself, his mother's modesty and sense of self wearing off on him at an early age. I guess I was more like my father; adventurous, outgoing, with a deep alligence to those I loved. I had been told as young as eight that I had a face rivaling my mother's, with my father's mischievous smirk. I was the perfect blend of Locke and Celes.  
  
The bottoms of my jeans were frayed from days upon days of travel on foot, and I rolled them up to keep them from catching on anything out in the woods. Bare calves exposed, I laid back in the grass next to Ryland, heaving a sigh of disdain. His head lolled to the side and he eyed me critically. Besides being just and humane, Ryland was also a serious pain in the ass. He had long denied his heritage, the blood of the Espers that coursed through his veins, as well as the blood of royalty. He had chosen a different path for himself, not as the crown prince of Figaro, but as nothing more than a juvenile delinquent and a thorn in his parents' side.  
  
I knew differently of course, but I chose not to acknowledge my feelings of compassion and committment towards him. The last time I had the nerve to love someone, both of those someones were ripped away from me. Hot tears burned my cheeks and I rolled onto my side, wanting to forget. I felt Ryland's arms heft my shaking frame into an awkward sitting position, calmly brushing the tears from my face as soon as they fell. I cried, and cried, and cried anew, mournful sobs robbing me of rational thought.  
  
"Daddy always said to treat others the way you want to be treated," I whimpered miserably, my strangled voice muffled by Ryland's clothing. "I've always been good to everyone..."  
  
***  
  
Really, it had all come to light last summer, the June of my fifteenth year. I had been working for the owner of the arsenal, who I'd known since I was old enough to trace back my memories. The sun effulged radiantly in the equally bright sky, making my usual tasks far more laborous as I struggled to gather a pile of scrap metal into a plastic container. My skin was rich with a toasted almond tan, my upper arms boasting an impressive amount of muscle for my ripe age. I was proud to say that I could do any job just as well, if not better, than the finest men in Kohlingen. Not that there were many, to my dismay. I'd grown to enjoy the company of the male gender, finding them refreshingly less critical than those of my own. However, most of the men were serving in the Imperial army, and were on call seven out of twelve moons. Kohlingen was crawling with busybodies, church hens, and old folks, making it a boring, uneventful little hole-in-the-wall.  
  
I blew away the strands of my light brown hair, settling the container on my knee as I leaned against the crotchety old doorframe and wiped the beading sweat from my brow. The smell of coal and leather wafted through the vent as I used my heel to kick the door closed behind me. Grunting boyishly, I hefted the iron and - was it platinum? sure was nice - on the wooden counter along with the rest of the scraps I'd transported that afternoon. Like every other day, I'd spent my summer outside doing odd jobs for Mr. Alper. He didn't really need the help, and the pay was fairly skimpy, but Daddy encouraged me to take on more responsibilites and help out financially around the house. So, being the generous old man he was, Alper worked out a business deal with my father, and I was basically the resident gopher from 6 in the morning to 1 in the afternoon.  
  
"Mr. Alper!" I called out as I strolled through the door, making my way behind the counter to accompany my boss. Expecting to hear his voice, I was a little surprised to be greeted by the presence of an Imperial general instead. I halted in my tracks, tensed up, and clenched my fists. Mother always told me, along with the obligatory cautions of strangers and crossing the street, that I should never trust a man in Imperial armor. I reached for a rag under the counter, never taking my eyes off the man.  
"Can I help you?" I asked warily, wiping my hands clean of ash and grease. Though his eyes were shielded by the blond hair that fell in front of them, I could tell he was giving me an appraising stare, and it made my skin crawl uneasily.  
"No." he replied tersely, surveying the store. It wasn't much of a place - wooden panels and dull crimson rugs, flashing displays of metallic weaponry lacing the hollow walls - but I'd grown accustomed to the weathered atmosphere and rugged environment.  
"O-okay," I murmured, impatience tingling on the outer edges of my voice. "Well, just let me know if there's anything I can get for you. I'm not sure where Alper is, but he should be back soon."  
"I've already spoken to Mr. Alper." Came his harsh reply. I focused on my hands, hot with shame at being treated in such a manner. I guessed that all soldiers acted so rudely, by the nature of their training. Mother used to be an Imperial soldier, and she told me that they were hardened to the horrors of the world.  
  
Alper came back sure enough, with a bundle tucked neatly under his arm. It wasn't my business to question the contents, nor was it my primary concern. All I could note was the strange, predatory way the soldier was staring at me. With a simple gesture, Alper dismissed me from my shift, and I left silently through the back door, resisting the urge to see if the solider's gaze was still on me. I didn't need to look; I could feel his penetrating glower as I scurried away. I shook off the chills as best I could, a surprisingly difficult task in such a blazing heat.  
  
I made my way home through the winding avenues, hands clasped behind my back innocently as I traipsed along. Father said I was the pride and joy of the town, Kohlingen's budding young blossom. I'd always laugh it off, hiding a blush with my own condemning modesty. Despite my fervent denial, I could see the truth behind his words wherever I went; housewives would wave kindly to me as I passed by, the elderly tipping their hats in an old-fashioned manner. I was on a first name basis with practically everyone, and I was always welcomed with open arms and radiant smiles. I grew up surrounded with love and attention; I had a town that cared for me as much as I cared for it.  
  
I hopped Mrs. Rosary's fence, careful not to disturb her careful bed of lilacs, and jumped into my own backyard. I was awarded with the nostalgic scent of cherry bark and clean laundry, and I pulled off my ripped-up old jeans as I walked in the back door.  
"Mo-om, I'm home!" I called out, knocking over a planter with my elbow as I fought to remove my shirt. It was getting a little too tight for me apparently, but the task was accomplished.  
"Good lord, Cadence Miranda Cole," my mother declared as she walked into the family room, seeing me in all my mismatched undergarment glory. She sounded more exasperated than apalled, being used to my dislike of layered clothing.   
"Relax mom," I sighed, unabashedly walking towards her, intending to assist her with the laundry. "Here, let me hang these on the line for you."  
"Oh no you don't Cadence," she warned, emphasizing her disapproval. "You are not going outside wearing nothing but your underwear."  
"Mother," I started, already knowing I'd lose the battle. "You know everyone in this town as well as I do, and they've seen me waddle around in nothing but diapers during my early years. And don't give me that temptation nonsense... the only boy my own age I've ever talked to is Ryland." In fact, Ryland was the only peer I'd ever known... I never talked to kids my own age, finding them petty and frivolous. The crown prince of Figaro wasn't much to write home about, but at least he was more of a gentlemen than most boys I'd seen around Kohlingen. Mom shook her head and pulled a semi-dry tunic from the laundry basket. "At least put this on before your father gets home."  
  
I had forgotten all about the Imperial soldier, and his business in humble Kohlingen.  
  
***  
  
I tossed restlessly in my bedroll, my porcelain face streaked with dried rivers of tears. I was never comfortable sleeping anywhere unless it was in my own bed, where I knew I had my parents nearby in case anything happened, where the soft hum of our air conditioner lulled me to sleep, where every creak in the house was completely predictable. I tried to take comfort in my newfound independence, straining my ears for Ryland's soft, raspy breath, and reaching out to stroke the cool metal of my Atma weapon, a gift from my mother who wielded the blade during Emperor Gestahl's reign.  
  
Atma glowed with a bluish tint beneath the night sky, holding my attention for mere seconds before I was entranced by Ryland's slumbering form again. We knew it would be smart to have watch shifts, but nothing seemed to matter anymore, not even our own lives. We had no plan for the future, and in all honesty, I was prepared to just sleep forever. But there I lay, my chin cradled lazily in my palm as I watched the boy I grew up with take in his deep, undeterred breaths from the crisp spring air. He looked so peaceful as he slept, hardly fitting of a king it seemed, though Ryland wasn't your average royal-blooded seventeen-year-old boy either.  
  
Ryland was one-quarter Esper, his mother being none other than the infamous half-breed, Terra Branford-Figaro. Father would always make jokes about Terra's marriage to a lech like King Edgar, though I found Edgar's charms to be quite endearing. He was always polite and respectful to others, but you didn't want to take advantage of his kindness either. He packed away a certain brute strength that was passed on to his son, the heir to the throne of Figaro. Of course, Ryland was a balanced mix between Terra's gentle nature and Edgar's straight-forward personality. He had grown up with as much love and adoration as I had, his father's subjects treating him as dearly as the people of Kohlingen treated me.   
  
I sighed and reached out to tuck a stray lock of chestnut behind Ryland's ear, and he twitched at the disturbance. My hand flew to my mouth to prevent a giggle from ruining the moment, though such mirth was quelled with memories of the past. I shook them away, focusing on more private thoughts, ones which were less painful. I stared at Ryland awhile longer; so young, and yet so brave. He and I used to go on all sorts of crazy adventures, ever since we were children.  
  
I wondered, slightly wistfully, if he even remembered those days...  
  
***  
  
"I don't see what's so special about THAT." he scoffed, rubbing the back of his neck. I stuck my tongue out at him, perturbed that he didn't enjoy my treasure as wholeheartedly as I did. Father liked being an original, and harbored great pride when no one else thought his findings were worth keeping. That meant they were a lot less likely to try and take said findings away from you. I could see his logic, but I preferred to make others happy. I wanted Ryland to share my love of treasure hunting, and all the relics that we found.  
  
"You mean you don't know?" I whistled, placing the trinket between my thumb and forefinger. "It looks about your size, why don't you try it on?"  
He shrugged, allowing me to slide the ring on the fourth finger of his left hand, full knowing what such an act normally symbolized. It was a simple silver band, curling in an intricate fashion with a jewel encrusted between each spiral. Ryland seemed to regard it with a quizzical, albeit appreciative look.  
"It's pretty cool." he finally decided, making my heart swell with a sense of accomplishment. "What is it?"  
"I think it's a Hero Ring, judging from the gems. See, that blue one enhances magic power and the red one increases your physical strength." Pause. "Guess it's only good for the strength part now, but back in the days when our parents belonged to the Returners and magic was still around, this must've been pretty valuable."  
"Guess so," he turned it at different angles, examining its multiple facets. I bowed my head a little.  
"You're probably used to finer things than that, being the crown prince of Figaro and all."  
I guess he thought he'd gone and hurt my feelings, because no sooner had the words come out of my mouth then he adamantly refused them.  
"Not at all. The treasures of Figaro are polished and put away where no one can admire them." He perched his limber form on a nearby rock, drawing one knee to his chest and resting his chin upon it. "These are definately more intriguing."   
  
I dusted off my indigo jeans and joined my friend on the rock. A little nudge in the ribs prompted him to pull out a handkerchief full of our findings: a Czarina Ring, a Ribbon, and a vial of Tincture. Nothing too exciting for us, considering we were used to bringing home pocketfuls of unique and sometimes rare relics of yore. Travelling with my father, a bonafide treasure hunter extraordinaire, must have spoiled us something awful. I reached over to touch the Czarina Ring, which glinted dully beneath the shreds of sunlight pouring through crannies in the cave.   
"I heard that these protect you when you're low on energy or being attacked." I said, looking straight into Ryland's emerald eyes. A chilled moment of silence surrounded us, as if a dark premonition hung over my words.  
"Why don't you keep it?" he offered, beckoning for my left hand and sliding it onto my ring finger. I was a little reluctant about letting him return my earlier gesture, but I assumed it was only fair.   
"Fine. What about this?" I held up the Ribbon, a sultry green hue. He squinted at it.  
"Aren't these supposed to protect you from ailments?" I threw an arm around his shoulders and gave him a congratulating squeeze.  
"You're learning!"  
  
"You know," he began, standing up and brushing the creases out of his khakis. "I'll bet these were a lot more useful when magic still existed."  
"I'm sure they were." Came my response, as I yanked the cork from the Tincture. "Split it with ya."   
"Works for me." he downed half the vial in one swig, and I greedily yanked it back from him. Tinctures and Ethers were used to recover suffering magic spirits during battle, restoring the magic user's ability to cast spells. Since magic ceased to be a part of our world any longer, they were considered obsolete, but Ryland and I liked the taste, and the small rush it gave us. Almost like caffiene, with a sweet taste rivaling those of the kiwi strawberry variety. I consumed the rest, my body feeling the refreshing jolt.  
"So where to next, my fearless leader?" he asked, showing full submission in the silliest way he could. Ryland wasn't as accustomed to cave exploration and adventuring as I was. He was good with kids though, I mused. Terra enjoyed the company of children and, as queen of Figaro, took it upon herself to nurture orphans in parts of the world that had been royally screwed over by the Empire.  
  
The Empire. Just the very thought brings a bitter taste to my mouth. A new emperor was elected after the people in the World of Ruin decided they couldn't maintain without one. Emperor Chappelle was less aggressive than Gestahl, and a lot wiser as well. He wasn't seeking impossible amounts of power, but he did enjoy his reign entirely too much. The world, for the seventeen years since the fall of Kefka, had been relatively peaceful. The Imperial army had shown no signs of inappropriate action, and the emperor made no promises he couldn't fullfill. But he turned his head away from the economy, and the now impoverished people of Tzen. Adults were dying in an attempt to keep their children fed and clothed, and there was little the rest of the world would do about it, save for the compassionate rulers of Figaro. Quite a team, Terra and Edgar were.  
  
"I don't know," I finally replied, allowing him to help me down, though I didn't require assistance. Edgar taught Ryland to be a gentleman, and I didn't want to ruffle his feathers by playing my independent-girl role. "Anywhere you had in mind?"  
"Not particularly, unless you wanna take the bridge to the meadow." His eyes lit up. "Yeah, I hear there's a killer view up there." Killer it almost was.  
Being fifteen, I thought that I was invincible, and that standard rules of life didn't apply to me. Just because my parents survived trauma after trauma, it didn't mean I could float through life pretending nothing could touch me. Ryland and I climbed up the rocky ravine, struggling to find footholds, when we could just as easily take the long, safe way up. I grasped a protruding rock and pulled myself onto the ledge, reaching out a hand to help my friend. I wasn't as strong as I thought I was, and he had been stronger than I gave him credit for. He grinned at me, and I stuck my tongue out. We walked towards the chasm in the cave, through which a rickety old bridge was constructed.  
"You first," I joked, giving Ryland a nudge.  
  
***  
  
I remember hearing rumors about my father and a young woman named Rachel some years ago. When I was around eleven or twelve, I asked him about his relationship with her.  
"Well sweetie," he began, getting that distant look in his eyes. I was getting a little too big to curl up in his lap, so I settled for hugging my legs to my chest and leaning against his stout frame. "Rachel was my first girlfriend, aside from all my silly childhood crushes. I met her when I was about seventeen."  
"What happened to her?" I asked impatiently, curling my toes as he pinched my neck.  
"Hold your horses, little one. Rachel used to accompany me on my treasure hunting excursions - much the way Ryland tags along with you and I. I courted her for over a year before I asked her to be my wife. She accepted the proposal, and to celebrate our engagement I took her to my favorite cave, wher I'd show her an exquisite relic I'd found."  
"What was it?" my attention shifted. He chuckled and tapped my nose.  
"I don't remember anymore, baby. That was years ago." he took a sip of his ale and continued. "So as we were headed down the path, we came to this old bridge - I knew it was unstable, but being eighteen I figured I was invincible. Just in case, I went first, so if anything happened at least Rachel would be alright. But - she wasn't. She saw that the bridge was about to collapse from under me and risked her life for mine."  
"Did she die?" My eyes were round as saucers, and mother chose that moment to walk in the front door, paper bag bundled under one arm.   
"Sorry, did I interrupt?" mother smiled, tucking a golden tress behind her ear. Father shook his head.  
"I was telling Cadence about Rachel." He looked back to me. "No, she didn't die right then. She did suffer from severe head trauma, which invoked a coma and later on, amnesia."  
"Locke..." my mother started, setting her package on the kitchen counter. The look in her pale blue eyes softened with sympathy. "Are you sure you want to be telling Cady this story? I know it's still hard..."  
"No, it's fine. She has a right to know." I scooted closer to my father, waiting for him to continue. "Anyways, due to her amnesia, Rachel didn't remember me."  
"But you guys were s'posed to get married!"  
"True. She couldn't help it though, and since her parents blamed me for the accident, I was run out of town. Completely alienated by the people of my hometown. I came back a year later only to find that Rachel had been killed by the Imperial army. The last thing she ever said was my name."  
I stuck out my lower lip, depressed by what I had learned. "Do you miss her?" I asked sullenly, noticing that my mother visibly stiffened over her work in the kitchen. She paused in slicing the vegetables, and continued at a faster pace after regaining composure.  
"In some ways, yes." he replied finally. "She was a nice girl, deserving of a good life. But I'm thankful that she gave me the chance to live - and to forgive myself. I realize that if I had gone through with the marriage, I would've never found the woman I truly loved, or had the best daughter in the world. Without her death to motivate me, I may never have fought against Kefka and the Imperial army all those years ago. I may not have joined the Returners. I used to beat myself up for what happened, but now it's in the past and I won't make the same mistake again." He gave me a tight hug. "I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure nothing happens to you and Celes."  
  
***  
  
The memory made my skin crawl, and I was suddenly afraid. What if the bridge gave out and I lost Ryland forever? I wouldn't settle for that.  
"Wait," I grabbed his arm before he set foot on the wooden panels. "Better let me go first."  
"Cadence," he groaned in exasperation. "You don't have to be all gung-ho in front of me. I know you're capable of handling yourself."  
"It's not that." I shook my head. Even though I was a daddy's girl, I inherited my mother's inability to hide her emotions. I frowned up at him, concern etching my brow. "It doesn't look very stable. If anything happens, I'd want to be the one to take the fall. No sense in making you go first."  
One of our seldom, emotionally-charged moments occurred right then. Ryland was obviously moved by my declaration, and I could feel myself blush.  
"We'll go together then." he replied softly, reaching for my hand. I let him lead me down the bridge, trying not to jump at each sway or seemingly unnatural creak. Halfway along, my shoe caught on a crannie in the plank and I tripped.  
"Eeeyah!" I shrieked, wondering if I'd end up like poor Rachel had. Ryland caught me by the shoulders.  
"Relax, you're okay."  
We made it across to the other side, and I smiled triumphantly at the bridge behind us. My newfound Czarina Ring glinted.  
  
We navigated the roughly hewn pathway out towards the meadow we'd come to recognize as our 'secret place'. Of course, there were other ways of getting there besides the crochety old bridge, and it was silently decided that we'd take the long way again next time. At the time being, the both of us sat down in the soft grass and leaned against our boulder. Zephyr painted the skies a dusty blue, petals of orange and pink brushing along the horizon to accompany an early sunset. The balmy breeze whisked away any traces of sweat from the back of my neck, and I mewled contentedly. Ryland laughed at my cute little noise, and I smiled up at him appreciatively.  
  
King Edgar always joked with my father about how I would one day become the Queen of Figaro, alongside Ryland. At first, Ryland and I would roll our eyes and go about our business together, but as we grew older, I secretly hoped that Edgar's predicitions would come true. Not because I had any specific desire to rule over Figaro, but because I had a specific desire to be with Ryland. I watched him transform from a bratty little boy to a compassionate candidate for the throne, transforming my own platonic feelings into more tumultuous emotions. If only he could've seen what I saw in him...  
  
***  
  
"Cadence!" a harsh rasp awakened my uneasy slumber. Had I been sleeping? I sat up and rubbed my eyes, wanting to rest more fitfully before venturing on. After blinking several times in rapid succession, I realized that it was still dark out.  
"Ryland?" I asked, reaching out for Atma. "What's going on?"  
"Shhh," he put a finger to my lips and I sat still, dumbfounded. Our eyes met, mine questioning and his pensive. "I hear something."  
"Prob'ly just the wind." I muttered, releasing my hair from its tangled ponytail prison. "Besides, who cares."  
"I care." he hissed, fingering the hilt of Illumina. To my dismay, he had been given the most powerful sword known to man, at the expense of the all-powerful Ragnarok blade. His weapon glowed with a reddish hue beneath the dimly dotted stars. "Maybe you don't feel there's anything left to live for, but I'm going to take back my father's kingdom."  
A rustle in the bushes startled my thoughts, and forced Ryland's attention back to the matter at hand.   
"It's coming from over there," I pointed towards a thorny thicket. He nodded in agreement as the two of us slowly approached the source of our disturbance. Another rustle, this one more violent. While Ryland held back, I dropped Atma and reached out to part the bushes.  
"What're you -"  
"Gyahhh!" I shrieked, falling back into a crab position. Ryland held out an arm to shield me from harm and brought his blade slicing down on the small, defenseless creature that had startled me out of my wits. A shock of crimson rained down on us, along with a few tufts of fur. We sat there in the dirt, panting heavily for a few moments before I smacked him across the back of his skull.  
"You moron! You just killed a harmless animal!"  
"Well maybe if you hadn't screamed like that I wouldn't have thought it was neccesary!" he shouted right back, following me as I stormed off towards the stream. "I don't see why you're so mad when it's your fault!"  
"It's not my fault!" I tossed behind my shoulder, catching a mouthful of hair in the process and spitting it back out.   
"You screamed bloody murder, what was I supposed to do?"  
"You're the rational one here!" I cried, kneeling over the brook and splashing water on my face. My fingers hurriedly wiped away the blood, sadness permeating my thoughts as I realized Ryland was probably right. "You should've treated the situation with more care!"  
"How could I have any time to think things over when I feared for your life?" he knelt down next to me, no longer upset. "I've lost enough, Cadence. I'm not going to risk your safety by taking things lightly."  
  
I cupped my hands in the stream and poured cool water over my hair, completely drenching every lock. It had been days since I'd bathed, and my hair was full of grime and knots. I tried to stay angry at Ryland, because I needed a way to vent my frustrations. I decided to give him the silent treatment, combing through wet tresses with my fingers. He watched me, quiet and amused as I continued to groom myself.  
  
"You gonna stay mad at me all night?" he wondered aloud, resting his chin in his hands. I turned away from him and folded my arms across my chest. Very mature, I know.  
"Cadence," his tone was low and warning. "You're mad at me because I was trying to protect you. Cut me some slack, will ya?"  
I sighed, giving up. "I wish my father were here."  
He pulled an arm around my shoulders. "I know. I wish I could bring our parents back. But I can't do that, and neither can you."  
I laid my head on his shoulder, letting a few tears spill onto the black fabric. God, since when was I such a crybaby? I probably ruined Ryland's image of me completely.  
"They're watching over us." he reassured me lightly.  
  
***  
  
It had been a year since I'd started work for Mr. Alper. What started out as a simple summer job turned into a full time occupation, and my days were filled with laborous tasks and endless errands. I had just seen the change of sixteen years and was feeling more confidant than ever in my abilities. That afternoon when I got off work, mother promised to practice my sword technique with me.  
  
Truth be told, I preferred having my father teach me new things; he made training sessions fun and interesting, while mother preferred to remain stoic and strict. However, hands down, my mother was much better at weilding a full-size blade than my father ever was. He leaned towards smaller weapons, such as dirks and daggers. I disliked handling knives of any sort; they were fast and effective, but generally I was inclined to train with long, slender swords. Close-combat was not my specialty.  
  
As I was walking home midday, I stopped to pluck a pink flower from the shrubbery in front of Mrs. Rosary's house. I decided not to hop her fence that day, considering I had accidentally crushed her lilacs while being particularly cumbersome. Feeling guilty, I gave her a healthy portion of that week's pay, plus a longwinded apology and an offer to help her plant new ones. She hugged me, thanking me for being so honest and helpful, but admitted that they hadn't been doing so well that season anyways and she'd just as soon replace them with perennials. Still, I'd opted not to disturb her peaceful garden, and sauntered towards my own cozy home, twirling the flower between my thumb and forefinger.  
  
The front door was unlocked as usual; Kohlingen was too calm and uneventful to worry about burglaries of any sort. I walked in, breathing the fresh aroma of cinnamon and clove.   
"Mo-om!" I called out, letting the door slam behind me.   
"Oh good honey, you're home." I heard her shuffle around in the kitchen, setting down a few dishes and rushing to embrace me. She was clad in simple pants and a shirt, her fabulous hair held back with clips. She certainly looked a lot younger than she really was; from the stories father had told me, she was a complete knock-out back in the day. Tainted by the blood of the innocent and cold to the touch, but she'd warmed up considerably by the end of their journey together. After giving birth to me, she'd assumed an entirely new maternal complex, giving up her past as a warrior and focusing heavily and being a wife and mother. Of course, age didn't mar her exceptional skill with her Runic blade, and as a gift for my sixteenth birthday, she'd bestowed upon me her most prized possesion; the Atma.   
  
"I brought this for you," I began sheepishly, handing her the flower. She seemed utterly surprised that I'd given her something; she fingered the blushing petals with the utmost delicacy and care. "I thought it was pretty, and it reminded me of you, so I picked it up on my way home."  
Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears, and with good reason. I suppose my mother felt like a third wheel in me and my father's relationship. I always brought him home my findings, and constantly begged to spend time with him. I'm sure Celes felt slighted by the two of us when we were together, and my small offering of affection made her years of hardships worthwhile.  
"Thank you sweetheart. Why don't you pick out a vase and we'll keep it on the table?"  
I nodded. "Alright." I entered the kitchen and dug through the shambles of odds and ends in one of the cupboards, searching for a suitable vase. I found one; small, round and crystalline blue.   
"Cadence," Mother began. "We were invited to dinner tonight at Figaro Castle. I want you to take a bath and dress nicely, alright?"  
"But mother," I argued. "Terra and Edgar don't care."  
"Honey, this is a formal occasion. There are important matters being discussed and I need you to be on your most ladylike behavior." Her lips quirked up into a wry smile. "Besides, I hear Ryland's grown up to be quite a looker this past year."  
"Mother!" I cried out, apalled and yet slightly amused. She gave me that telltale look and laid her hands on my shoulders. "I was the same way about your father. I told Edgar once, a long time ago, that I was a soldier and not some love-starved twit. Turned out I fell for Locke harder than I wanted to admit." Her blue eyes grew distant at the memory, and a faint smile played on her lips. The reminiscence slowly faded and she cocked a brow at me. "Now get dressed missy, or I'll dress you up myself."  
  
***  
  
I splashed around in my bathwater, scooping up a handful of vanilla-scented bubbles and blowing them into the air. I refused to get my hair wet since it took hours to dry; my long, carmel-colored tresses hung to the small of my back in thick, soft waves. Father would often joke about my mother and I having more hair on our heads than Umaro the sasquatch had on his entire body. I could barely fit in the bath anymore, my long legs having outgrown the small porcelain tub. I yanked the plug before I turned into a prune, and wrapped myself up with a terrycloth.  
  
I followed orders and dressed accordingly in a billowing blue skirt and a white strappy shirt. I enlisted the help of my mother in lacing my up along the sides - I remembered why I kept the silly thing in the back of my closet in the first place. I allowed her to put a dab of makeup on me but haughtily insisted that my hair remain loose. Instead, she settled for brushing it till my scalp burned.  
  
My father whistled appreciatively when he saw me. "Who's this exquisite creature?"  
I rolled my eyes, secretly pleased. "Cut it out, dad."  
"Just like you to spoil my fun." he shook his head, smiling at me affecionately. "So much like your mother. You're gonna need a stick to beat those boys off."  
"That's why I have Atma." We shared a chuckle.  
"So daddy," I began as he brushed the wrinkles from his nice shirt. "What's this whole formal dinner for?"  
He sighed in a way that made him seem old beyond his forty-three years.  
"Sweetheart, I don't know what your mother told you..."  
I shrugged. "She told me to dress nicely. And take a bath."  
"This isn't going to be a usual dinner with the Figaro family. Emperor Chappelle and his lackies are going to be present; there's some tension going on between Figaro Kingdom and the Empire, and we're hoping to resolve it tonight."  
"Is it serious?" I asked, perching on the arm of our couch. I could tell by the clouded look in my father's eyes that he couldn't be sure.  
"Don't know. All I know is that Edgar and Terra want us there for moral support."  
I grinned childishly. "Is Uncle Setzer going to be there?"  
"Uncle..." he laughed, shaking his head. "Nope, I don't believe so. He's been perusing the world, so to speak, and I don't suppose he'll be back till he figures out what he wants from life." He paused a minute. "Why do you call him 'uncle' anyways?"  
"I always have! Ryland has his Uncle Sabin, and I have my Uncle Setzer."  
We shared a father-daughter hug and mother walked in the room, shaking her head at the sight.  
"Should I be envious?"  
I gauged my father's reaction to Celes' long white dress and green ribbon. He smiled lovingly, obviously lost in reminiscence.  
"That ribbon still suits you." He tore his eyes away long enough to look at me. "Did I ever tell you the opera story Cady?"  
"Yes," I huffed, squirming out from under his arm. "About a million times at that. I know how mother impersonated Maria and that was when you realized you were falling in love with her, and so on and so forth. And I also know how Uncle Setzer nearly swept you off your feet mom, you man-eater."  
Mother laughed giddily, hiding a blush.  
"Swept her off her feet?" Father asked incredulously. "That punk had nothing on me. He still doesn't."  
  
Edgar had already made arrangements for a Chocobo carriage to pick us up and take us to Figaro Castle. When the little chariot arrived, Mother had to get in first so she could help me up - I wasn't used to functioning in such bulky clothing. Along with me, I brought Atma, much to the disapproval of my parental units. It had taken much convincing for them to let me bring it along, but had we argued more extensively on the matter, we would have been late. I sat between my parents throughout the duration of the ride, shifting uncomfortably whenever I'd catch them making eyes at each other. I hoped that, in the event I ever got married, I would have a love that tangible. It was clear as day that Locke and Celes felt for each other the same way they always had. I sighed and leaned back, letting them gaze meaningfully at one another. Instead I focused on Ryland... he was seventeen now, almost eighteen. I hadn't seen him in months and I wondered how he was doing... if he thought of me... if he looked as good as mother claimed. I mentally chided myself. Stop it Cadence, this is your best friend we're talking about. The Czarina ring on my left hand glinted, memories resurfacing.  
  
***  
  
Figaro Castle's aged spledor was lost on me, as I was accustomed to the sights and sounds of the bustling kingdom. It felt like a second home to me, and I was welcomed with open arms. We hopped out of the Chocobo carriage, mother scolding me on my unladylike exit. Father tipped the driver and saw him off. I sneezed at the dust the yellow birds kicked up, taking care to make sure my blade was pointed downward.  
  
The usual guard bowed his head and welcomed us inside the castle gates, keeping a wary eye on Atma. Terra greeted us upon our entrance, dressed up in a fancy ballgown, curly green hair falling in ringlets around her slender face.  
"Locke, Celes, it's wonderful to see the both of you." she gave them each a kiss on the cheek before coming to me. The queen of Figaro laid a pale hand over her chest and smiled sweetly. "And don't you look like a prize Cadence Miranda. You're more and more becoming each time I see you." she pressed a kiss to my forehead.  
"You flatter me," I replied just as kindly, giving her a tight squeeze with my free arm. Terra was a wonderful woman, and I loved her dearly. It was hard to believe there was ever a time in which she wasn't comfortable with her royal status. Judging from the stories Setzer had told me, no one ever expected Terra and Edgar to marry, much less have a child before Locke and Celes. Apparently Terra was smitten with children and although she and Edgar brought a handful of orphans from Mobliz under their wing, the new queen wanted a newborn of her own. Edgar agreed, wanting a son to succeed him in the throne. My own parents spent two years travelling the world in search of harmony - a peace that they realized could only be obtained by sharing their love with a baby. Which was indeed how I came to be.  
  
"You look fabulous, Terra." My mother began, and the two women chattered away like the church hens I found gossiping in front of the general store.   
"What is it with women?" I whispered to my father, and he grinned.  
"They never used to be this way." he replied, equally confused. "It was always Terra wondering if she'd ever learn to love and Celes pushing everyone away. Wonder what changed all that?"  
"Midlife crisis?" I suggested, and he flicked the back of my neck.  
"Watch it," he warned playfully. "I'm older than both of them."  
"Well," I retorted in a snotty manner. "You do forget who's got the weapon in hand."  
  
"Locke, my friend!" Edgar called out merrily. "How's the stealing business?"  
Before my father could correct him, the king gaped at me.  
"My, my, such a beautiful young lady we have here." I tolerated it with a smile, already tired of the comments about my looks. Who cared about appearances anyway?   
"Watch it you old lech," my father interrupted. "That's my daughter you're talking to."  
"Relax, relax, have a glass of champagne old buddy. I'd never sway a young lady with a big sword. Ryland!" he yelled out, and my heart jumped to my throat. "Hey son, get out here and join the festivities!"  
Edgar winked at me, taking a sip from his goblet. "He's been asking about you."  
  
When he walked into the room, I barely recognized him. He had been away at Jidoor for nearly eight months to complete his schooling, and I hadn't seen him at all during his absence. He had to have been at least six feet tall, towering over my meager five-five frame. His hair was still the same wild green, making him his mother's son, but his strong features were all his own. Our eyes met, and his travelled downwards. Instinctively, I folded my arms across my chest, not allowing him to size me up so openly.  
"Damn Edgar," my father howled, nursing his own goblet. "Better watch how you treat this kid or he'll beat you off the throne with a stick!" What it was with my father and beating people with sticks, I'd never know. He slapped Ryland heavily on the back, causing my friend to stumble, and laugh with amusement. "How ya been, Ry?"  
"I've been better," he replied calmly, his voice deeper and more controlled than I'd remembered it to be. "Studying in Jidoor wasn't the most exciting thing I've ever done, but at least it's behind me now."  
"Don't like hangin' around all those aristocrats eh?"  
Ryland smiled for real, casting a glance at Terra. "That too. Mostly I just missed my mother and my home here."  
  
After awhile of half-heartedly listening in on the decidedly adult conversations, my mother nudged me. "He's been stealing glances at you for the past ten minutes. Why don't I drag your father away from him and let you two catch up?"  
I shrugged indifferently, watching my mother take Locke's arm and veer him off towards Terra and Edgar. Dad was a lightweight when it came to alcohol and lost control of his functions easily. For that night's banquet, it was best to let him rest off his champagne and wait till dinner. I took a tentative step towards Ryland, and he surprised me by meeting me halfway. Soft orchestra music punctuated the din of cordial tidings around us, but all we heard was silence.  
"Hey stranger." I croaked, unable to tear my azure eyes from his sultry green ones.  
"Hey yourself." he replied. "You're looking well Cadence."  
"It's been a long time since you've seen me." I defended, fighting back the urge to fidget. "God, you've grown so much."   
He reddened slightly, reaching for my arm. "Dinner doesn't start until the emperor arrives, and that won't be for awhile. Why don't you join me out on the balcony? Doubt our parents will even know we're gone, and we'll be back in time to greet Chappelle and his men."  
"You know me," I grinned. "Always up for an act of rebellion."  
  
We slid through the doors undetected and headed up several flights of stairs. He didn't release his grasp on my arm till we'd reached the aforementioned balcony. There were were, at the top of the castle, seemingly at the top of the world, and I laid Atma down to get a better view. I leaned my elbows on the cobblestone wall and watched, with immense fascination, how the dim lights of nearby Kohlingen flickered eerily in the fading dusk. A frown made its way across my lips as I remembered that mother and I were supposed to train that afternoon. The liquid muscle in my arms begged to be utilized, and my legs were sore from being out of use for so long. I stiffened when Ryland joined me at the edge.  
"I've missed you." he told me softly, following my gaze towards Kohlingen.  
"It's been too long." I agreed. "I haven't had anyone to go treasure hunting with."  
He laughed bemusedly. "I take it your father's been too busy?"  
"More or less. I think he's getting a little old for that sort of lifestyle anymore."  
"Better not tell him that." Ryland smirked, averting his gaze towards the specks of stars that dotted the heavens.  
"How was Jidoor?" I asked, trying to get my mind off the inappropriate - and strangely wonderful - thoughts that Ryland invoked. What a few months apart and a growth spurt could to do one's hormones!   
He rubbed the back of his neck, twisting his face up into a thoughtful expression. "A lot different from Figaro, that's for sure. The people, regardless of their social class, were mostly stuck up. You know, the higher-ups thought they were better than you, and the commoners had this preconceived notion that anyone with more money than them would look down on them. So I was stuck in the middle."  
"Did you make any friends there?" I questioned lightly, fully understanding what it was like to grow up around adults all your life.  
"Not really. The socialites were so materialistic and superficial that they barely bothered with much else, including other people. And of course, the commonfolk were way too edgy; they took everything offensively and figured that if you talked to them, you must be mocking them."  
I hid a blush as I found my next words. "So... no girlfriends then?"  
  
He turned around and leaned his lithe frame back against the wall. I exhaled shakily, unsure of the heady sensations his simple presence was inviting. He seemed distraught as well, pondering his next choice of words.  
"No. And even if there were anyone who caught my eye there, I'd still be saving myself for someone special."  
"You have someone in mind?" I asked meekly.  
He laughed, shaking his head at the absurdity. "All the time."  
"Oh." I let out my breath, turning around and hoisting myself up on the ledge. "What a lucky girl." A tad too wistful, but perhaps he wouldn't catch on.  
"I guess you are." he smiled adoringly at me. The heat rose to my cheeks when I realized what he was referring to. I crossed my ankles nervously, watching him turn to face me. When he couldn't look at me, he focused on his shoes, sighing deeply.  
"I kept it." he said simply, holding his hand up to indicate the Hero ring we'd found a year earlier.  
"Why?" I could barely speak. He seemed to take that into consideration, sliding it off and weighing it in his palm.  
"My decision to leave for Jidoor was pretty spur of the moment -"  
"I noticed."  
"And I felt really bad about leaving without saying goodbye to you. That and I knew I'd end up missing you in one way or another. So I wore it the whole time I was there. Figured it was my way of honoring you and the memories we've shared."  
"Ryland," I started. A bubble of mirth rose from my throat. "That's so cheesy."  
He grinned at me, reaching out to run his fingers through my hair, the way he had in my dreams. How long had I wanted this? Even as a child I'd had a crush on the prince of Figaro, always trying to impress him with my budding skills as a treasure hunter. Was this really about to happen?  
"Yeah I know." he sighed again, a corner of his mouth tugging upward in a sad half-smile. "You've gotten even prettier since I last saw you."  
I laughed nervously, reaching up to brush my fingers over his. "Nah. It's just this silly outfit my mom made me wear."  
"No, before that. Think I care how you're dressed? I thought you were beautiful when your face was ashen with soot and cinders and your knees and elbows were scraped," he leaned closer to me, and I could feel the words as they formed on his lips. "When you'd run around barefoot in your ripped up jeans and those shirts that you'd long outgrown... it doesn't matter to me."  
"Then -" I trembled, his face inching ever closer. "Then what does?"  
"What do you think?" his eyes darkened with emotion. I pulled him closer, feeling as if something deep inside of me had been awakened.  
  
"EMPEROR CHAPPELLE HAS ARRIVED!" the loud admission sent the two of us flying backwards, me nearly falling off the edge.  
"Careful," Ryland winked at me, releasing his grasp on my waist. I scooted off the wall and led us downstairs, tucking my hair behind my ears self-consciously. What a way to ruin the moment, I thought bitterly, the butterflies still tickling my insides. Maybe after dinner...  
  
***  
  
Emperor Chappelle was an average-looking man by appearance. He was formally dressed, his dark gray hair held back in a ponytail. At either side of him were two men, supposedly his most trusted generals. Several faceless Imperial henchmen dwelled a few paces behind them, keeping a watchful eye on Edgar and my father.  
"Welcome to Figaro, Emperor Chappelle." Edgar intoned, spreading his arms out in welcoming. "Feel free to make yourselves comfortable. Dinner will be served in few moments."  
"I accept your hospitality with gratitude, King of Figaro. These are my men, General Crowley and General Felix, who will be accompanying us for tonight's feast."  
The latter of the two, General Felix, looked awfully familiar. His flaxen hair was slicked back, revealing close-set brown eyes and a stern upper lip. I squinted my eyes, trying to remember where I'd seen this man before, and he stole a glance at me as well. The stubborn frown he wore faded into a suggestive half-smile, his deathless eyes baring into me mercilessly. There was almost a predatory glimmer in his eyes, one that seemed branded in the back of my mind...  
  
"It's a pleasure meeting you." Edgar went on, offering a firm handshake to each of the men. "This is my wife, Terra." He gestured to the beautiful queen of Figaro. I tore my eyes away from General Felix long enough to notice that the emperor was sizing Terra up, discreetly, but lustfully nonetheless. What was it with the men of the empire? Leches, all of them! "This is Locke Cole and his wife Celes, their daughter Cadence Miranda and my son Ryland."  
Formalities were exchanged, and I shook the hand of General Felix, unable to look into his eyes. Ryland and I dogged behind when everyone was called into the dining hall.  
"What's the matter Cadence?" he set a hand on my shoulder, concerned.  
"I don't like this." I mumbled, handing Atma to one of the servants to put in a safe room for me, making him swear on his life to treat it with the utmost care. Ryland refrained from laughing, the serious vibe we'd shared earlier coming back twice as strong.  
"Neither do I." he replied softly, gentle eyes roaming over my face. "But it'll be over soon. And then after dinner... there's something I want to tell you."  
I seized the opportunity, taking his hands in mine. "You can't tell me now?"  
He pulled away. "We need to get in there before the emperor throws a coniption fit. Come on."  
I stuck out my lower lip like a child. Strike two.  
Well, third time's a charm.  
  
***  
  
The dining hall was exquisite; long walls decorated with ancient paintings, ornamental laterns casting a soft, relaxing light, beautiful jeweled swords hanging in criss-cross fashion. The carpet was an inviting shade of taupe, the lengthy table covered with a patterned cloth, and the silverware was of fine craftsmanship. We were presented with a vast selection of roasted hams and turkeys, a meddley of boiled vegetables, and an assortment of breads and rolls. It was all I could do to keep my eyes in their sockets - I could certainly get used to this, I thought wryly, stealing a flirtatious glance at the prince across from me. He twitched his lips and raised his eyebrows, causing me to blush. I really didn't have much experience in the flirting department, did I?  
  
After the main course had been served, the discussion began. I tried my hardest not to do anything terribly unladylike, so I sat in silence, picking apart a slice of bread. My ears picked up the most interesting part of the conversation.  
"You must understand, we only seek to benefit the world as we know it." Chappelle was saying.  
"From what I understand, you seek to take my kingdom out from under me." Edgar kept his voice level. "I don't see how relinquishing my rightful position is going to make current situations any better."  
"The Empire doesn't wish to take from you." Chappelle was growing stern. "We simply want you to help us accomodate a better future. We feel that the best way for the inhabitants of this world to live, is to be governed by a single branch. This doesn't mean you'll lose your castle."  
"No, but it means I'll lose my birthright and everything I've strived to obtain." I wanted to throw my arms around the king and give him a big hug for being so temperant and wise. He was certainly giving the emperor his opinion and keeping a cool head about it. I caught Ryland smirking. "Furthermore, there has been no complaint over my reign as King of Figaro. Under no circumstance will I dishonor my family's legacy by giving up our kingdom. Figaro intends to remain self-governed, and my son Ryland is to succeed me in the throne. That is final."  
General Crowley spoke next. "I urge you to reconsider your refusal. We take nothing from you and offer you an easier lifestyle in return."  
"I stand by my husband's decision." Terra declared firmly. "We enjoy working together to make this world safer and stronger. To give up our efforts and relinquish the kingdom to the Empire would only serve as a fool's paradise, one which neither of us will be snared in."  
"Agreed." Edgar took his wife's hand lovingly. "I will continue to rule over Figaro until my son succeeds me."  
  
I held my breath.  
  
*To Be Continued*  
  



	2. Liquid Karma - 2

"Liquid Karma" - by Allora Atwater a.k.a. Lucky Girl's Confusion  
  
A/N: Well... I am writing notes to tell you that there will be more notes at the end - notes that will explain *everything* you read here in great detail, so that you don't *yell* at me for being inaccurate. Have patience! And thanks to those who have reviewed!  
  
***  
"I urge you to reconsider your refusal. We take nothing from you and offer you an easier lifestyle in return."  
"I stand by my husband's decision." Terra declared firmly. "We enjoy working together to make this world safer and stronger. To give up our efforts and relinquish the kingdom to the Empire would only serve as a fool's paradise, one which neither of us will be snared in."  
"Agreed." Edgar took his wife's hand lovingly. "I will continue to rule over Figaro until my son succeeds me."  
  
The mood turned sour for a spell, the emperor obviously warring with his inner turmoil. I'm sure he didn't expect to be refused by the King of Figaro, and by all means, there wasn't much he could do about it either. General Felix was giving me his watchful eye again, and this time, Ryland caught it as well. He looked towards me, his jaw set tightly. I let my shoulders fall as I shook my head; I couldn't figure it out either. His face was so burningly familiar...  
  
"Understood," Chappelle finally backed down. He forced a smile. "No need to put a damper on things, right? So Mr. and Mrs. Cole, I understand you hail from Kohlingen?"  
I nudged my father wryly. He glanced to me with a smirk.  
"Yes," My mother intervened, folding her hands on the table. "We've lived there since Cadence was born. Locke is a native to the area."  
"It's a pleasant little hamlet," Felix spoke up. "I've passed through several times. In fact, I believe I met your daughter at the local weaponry."  
It suddenly became hard to swallow. So that was him... he was the Imperial soldier who had showed up a year prior. There was no mistaking the cold void in his eyes that seemed to penetrate through my skin.  
"Oh?" My father raised an eyebrow inquisitively, his overprotective nature in full swing.   
"You remember that?" I asked incredulously, feeling Ryland's eyes on me.  
"Apparently you do as well."  
I shook my head. "I thought I knew who you were. It was quite a long time ago though."  
"So it was. You were very courteous during my visit."  
"And you were very rude." I shot back, not liking the way he smiled at me. Ryland and my father didn't either.  
"Cadence." my mother scolded lightly.  
"It's quite alright, ma'am. I was rather inconsiderate at the time. I had pressing business to attend to and had to keep up a curt demeanor." He raised his eybrow ever so slightly. "I'm terribly sorry that I was terse with you."  
"What's passed is past." Ryland mumbled. I smiled inwardly. Father was right; I was lucky to have so many people care for me.  
  
***  
  
I wiped my own tears away, squirming out of Ryland's arms. He was patient with me for the most part, letting me regain composure and fall back into a weeping mess in a moment's notice. Why couldn't I be strong like my mother? Why couldn't I ever live up to her?  
  
"Goodnight." I muttered, leaving him behind.   
  
***  
  
Dinner had ended on a formal note, and as soon as the emperor was out of hearing-range, my father and King Edgar shared merciless jabs at the stuffy, strong-headed man. Ryland had disappeared after the banquet, retreating to his chambers without a word. When I asked Terra, she simply shrugged affectionately, telling me that Ryland had become rather reclusive since he'd returned from Jidoor. Was he mad at me? I wondered, idly tugging at the hem of my shirt. Would I ever hear what he wanted to tell me?  
  
"Honey," my mother cooed, placing the back of an ivory hand upon my flushed cheek. "Are you alright? You look ill."  
I shook my head, brushing her off. Terra pulled my mother aside and spoke to her, quietly so that I couldn't hear. Celes smiled, wrapping a surprisingly strong arm around my shoulders, and led me to an adjacent set of stairs.  
"Goodnight Cadence Miranda," Terra bid me farewell.  
"I'm not tired." I protested like a whiny brat, resisting the method of force in which my mother instated. She dragged me along, and I hissed unyieldingly.  
"Just like your father," she mused. "Stubborn and impetuous, yet I can't help but love you so dearly."  
I gave up.   
  
When we reached my room, I smiled in fond rememberance; the familiar decor invited me towards a four-post bed, the canopy made of fine translucent thread and the sheets weaved of only the finest silk. This, I thought, was living it up. Nothing like our home in Kohlingen, though I admit, home sweet home was definately more comforting. I plopped myself ungracefully amongst the soft sheets, sampling the fabric between my fingers. Mother took her place next to me, running a hand through my uncharacteristically tamed hair.  
  
Feeling especially motherly that night, she helped me dress for bed, folding my nice clothes neatly across a chair. A white cotton nightgown hung loosely around my modest frame, and she tied the sash for me, putting up with all my fussing. I let her brush my hair and sweep it into a casual braid, finally swatting her hands away when she was being too picky. I had hurt her feelings; it was as clear as day in her sky blue eyes.  
"I guess I should let you go off to bed, Cadence." she smiled sadly, patting my hand. "Sorry if I treat you immaturely at times. You'll always be my baby girl..."  
"Oh, come here." I sighed in mock-exasperation, catching her in a tight embrace. "I wanted to talk to you anyways."  
"Oh?" she seemed to perk up. "This should be interesting."  
I rarely confided in my mother; mostly I would go to my dad with all my problems and together, he and I would solve them. But I knew this time was different. Suddenly, being a lady became everything in the world to me.  
"Well," I began, looking at my hands. How was I going ask my own mother this? "When did you realize you were in love with Dad?"  
A tranquil smile painted her lips, and she shifted her weight to put an arm around my shoulder.  
"Honey, I loved your father before I was even sure what love was. Growing up in the Imperial Army, becoming the youngest general under Gestahl's command... it forced a hardened outer shell upon me. And when I finally realized that their was some twinge of remorse in my gut, something that told me my place in life was not with the Empire, there was nothing I could do. They threw me in prison when I tried to escape, abusing me as they saw fit." Her eyes misted over slightly. "That was when Locke and I first met. He didn't see me as the rest of the world did; to him, I wasn't a traitor, nor was I a murderer. He saw me as a girl who desperately needed help, no matter how hard she pretended she didn't. He promised to protect me throughout the course of our travels, and that he did. Many times I let him come to my rescue, because I'd never known how wonderful it felt to have someone care that much about you. Care enough... to risk their own life for yours."  
My eyelids grew heavy as I leaned against her shoulder. "But you knew about Rachel, didn't you?"  
"After a time, yes. Locke had spared a few vague details every now and then, but up until our visit to Kohlingen, I never knew the full story." She sighed. "It killed me to watch his torment. Not knowing how to react to him, I expressed my sympathies privately. But I knew - before the world ended, I knew I'd fallen for him. And I'd come to find that he'd fallen for me as well."  
  
I could barely hold my eyes open, and she was very aware of that. Gently prodding my shoulders, Mother was able to coax me under the covers.  
"You have nothing to worry about sweetie." she cooed, and I knew what she was referring to.   
"Can you tell dad to come in, when he gets a chance?"   
"Of course." A mandatory kiss on the forehead. "I love you Cadence."  
"Love you too, mom."  
  
I rolled onto my side, patiently awaiting my father. A blue glint caught my eye; Atma was placed neatly upon my bedside table, making me feel a newfound sense of security. I reached out to stroke the hilt, sighing heavily.   
"You summoned me?" Locke teased, poking his head in the door. I sat up and folded my arms across my chest indignantly.  
"Indeed I did! What is the meaning of this?"  
"Of what?" he furrowed his brow, inviting himself in.  
"Of you not saying goodnight to me!"  
He laughed. "But of course. Goodnight, my Cadence Miranda."  
"Night, daddy." I laid back down, satisfied. He placed a hand on my forehead for a moment. "I'll see you in the morning."  
  
***  
  
I woke up for the second time that night, only to find the sun peeking over the illustrious mountains surrounding Narshe. We were so close to being in an actual city; I longed for the luxuries of running water and pre-cooked meals. Having lived off of stringy Were-Rats for several days, my stomach demanded something more substantial. I stretched my arms, bemoaning a vicious crink in my neck. Ryland slept peacefully beside me, a shallow snore breaking the barrier of silence between us. I ruffled his hair absently, resolving not to think about events past.   
  
I stood, shielding my eyes for a moment as I found my bearings. Might as well catch breakfast early on, so we'd have the strength to reach Narshe. Besides, since leaving Figaro, Ryland had done all the work, hunting for food, setting up camp, conjuring up a fairly thought-out plan. Hardly royal activities if you ask me. In any event, I wasn't in the mood to wait on him that morning, and I'm sure he wouldn't appreciate me disturbing his slumber. Stumbling through the woods, Atma at my side, I went in search of a mid-morning snack.  
  
The forest was crawling with less-than-delectable creatures, but I felt like showing off for Ryland. If I couldn't wow him with my cooking skills, I could at least impress him with a more succulent find. A rustle in the thicket startled me, and I turned around. Yellow eyes peered back at me from their hiding spot, slowly approaching me. Atma flickered and I held it up defensively, prepared to slice the animal in half; whatever it was, it looked big enough to feed a hungry family. At a leisurely pace, the newly-revealed Lobo stalked towards me, eyeing me in a nonchalant manner.  
  
I didn't like the idea of killing it; they were practically man's best friend when properly trained. However, this particular canine was wild, with cold-blooded instincts to back it up. As I contemplated killing it, it could just as quickly rip my throat out.   
"Ummm... nice doggie?"  
Apparently I had offended the Lobo, and he bared his teeth at me angrily.  
"Alright, ix-nay on the oggie-day." I joked, shifting my eyes nervously as the hair on the nape of the animal's neck stood up. A low growl, followed by a loud bark.  
"Look, I really don't want to kill you..." I told the Lobo, pointing Atma downwards. The dog continued to bark, tossing in a ferocious snarl every now and then for good measure. I hated to claim defeat, but I couldn't bring myself to hurt the animal. I was stupid for ever thinking I could match up to either of my parents, or even Ryland. Just as the Lobo lunged for my neck, a flash of red light spliced through the dog, killing him instantly in mid-leap. The corpse fell to the ground in a furry heap, leaving me to stare straight at Ryland.  
  
He appeared very displeased with me, his eyes still clouded with sleep. Anger was written plainly across his somber features, and he shifted his weight to rest a hand on his hip.  
"Smart move Cadence. Are you sure you aren't trying to get yourself killed?"  
Shame welled up in the pit of my stomach. I dipped my chin to avoid his penetrating glower.  
"You don't have to be my knight in shining armor Ryland. I can take care of myself."  
He smirked wryly. "Right. That's why you can't even kill a beast before it tries to kill you."  
Why? Why did Ryland have to be my savior every time I tried to do something on my own? Did my grief make me weak and susceptible? Just the thought of killing an innocent creature made me sick with injustice.   
"It's nice to know I have my privacy, with you lurking around as my bodyguard and all."  
His eyes darkened and he grabbed my arm as I tried to brush past him.  
"I'm not twisted like that, Cadence." he growled. Noticing my wince, he loosened his grasp and softened his tone. "I just get so scared for you. If I can't feel you by my side then I know you've gone off on your own again. I know you're capable of taking adequate care of yourself, but your heart's too pure to kill. I can see it in your face."  
  
I tried to pull away, embarrassed, but he held me to him gently.  
"If I lose you, then there's no point in trying to win back Figaro."  
"Alright Ryland, I know what you're getting out, just stop already."  
He let go, exasperated with my inability to express either gratitude or affection towards him. It was true; without him there to save me, I would've died a thousand deaths earlier. I didn't want a man to protect me, especially not the one I wanted to win over with my skills. Mother told me she had eased up a bit when she met Locke, let him do a little of the work for her because she liked feeling safe. Apparently it was her way of getting closer to him; she didn't act like a complete pushover, but when the two of them fought a mechanical contraption by the name of Tunnel Armor, she definately held back her full potential. At first I was concerned, wondering if she put my father in more danger than he should have been. With a sly wink, she'd replied, "No more than he would've been in without me. I kept a watchful eye on him."  
  
Shaking my head, I caught up with Ryland and put a hand on his shoulder.  
"Thanks, I really do owe you one."  
"Well," he replied, easing up a bit. "If you'd really like to repay me there's something you could do..."  
  
***  
  
I slept lightly for the duration of the evening, drifting in and out of uneasy dreams. Despite the warm atmosphere, my stomach twisted anxiously in anticipation. I tried convincing my stubborn mind that I was just feeling apprehensive over Ryland, that I was succumbing to some silly girlish crush, but to no avail. My bossy inner self couldn't win the fight against common sense. I myself fought against the urge to call out for my father several times during the night, berating my own foolishness.  
  
A peculiar smell wafted past my nostrils, rousing me slightly. I buried my head under the pillow when the aroma strengthened, desperately seeking a good night's rest. Crankiness in the morning was a trait I'd picked up from Locke, and I wasn't in the mood to wake up grouchy. After a few moments, I became curious, unable to rest until said curiosity had been satisfied. The scent was more intense; it smelled like something was burning.   
  
Throwing back the sheets and running to my bedroom window, I saw what a sixteen year old girl should never have to see. A swarm of dull brown uniforms flourished their sparkling blades, shocks of crimson splattering across the stone walls as innocent lives were being taken. Screams echoed through the walls, penetrating the thin air of silence.  
  
"Imperial soldiers..." I whispered, disbelieving. So, Chappelle hadn't taken Edgar's words as lightly as he led us to believe. Of course, if he couldn't get what he wanted through negotiation, he'd take it by force. And to think, the people of the world had elected a new emperor, thinking they couldn't maintain without one and ultimately making the same mistake they had in the days of Gestahl.  
  
The cries became louder, more distinct. The Figaro soldiers tried their best to defend their castle, parrying attacks as best they could, and falling victim to another merciless blow dealt by the Imperial Army. Scarlet flames shot up, covering the castle in a dense cloud of smoke. At the heart of the action stood General Felix; I couldn't discern his facial expression, but he undoubtedly wore a mask of hatred and amusement. Sickened, I turned away from the scene, yanking my nightgown off and putting on the jeans and shirt I had brought along with me. Clutching the hilt of the Atma Weapon, my Czarina ring glinted meaningfully.  
  
"Don't fail me now." I warned, running out the door.  
Expecting to find my parents nearby, I was greeted instead by more black smoke and a blaze that licked the edges of every door.  
"Mom! Dad!" I screamed, choking heartily. It was probably a bad idea to be opening my mouth at that point, I'd realized. Terror squeezed my heart as I fought to remain calm. My parents must have made it outside and were helping to defend Figaro castle with the others. There was no use thinking bad thoughts. I fell to my knees and started crawling, remembering that smoke rises. I lifted the edge of my shirt and covered my mouth and nose as well. Couldn't afford to pass out in the middle of the halls.  
  
I was lucky I left when I did; in a matter of seconds, the room in which I slept was engulfed in bright orange flames. My ears pounded, my face flushing red from the extreme temperatures. The power had gone out during the attack, and coupled with the thick layer of smoke, I was left groping around the halls blindly. If memory serves me, there should be a staircase down this way, I thought. I reached up after a few moments and touched a polished banister. When I tried to continue down the given path, I was intercepted by something hard and metallic. A piece of furniture? I wondered inanely.  
  
No, a sterling spear, sharp as a finepoint needle. The weapon hovered just inches from my face, holding steady in the blazing heat.  
"Oh shit." I cursed, bemoaning my luck. I dared to peer up at my attacker, only to feel the tip of the blade graze my cheek, piercing my virgin skin. The wound burned and tingled, warm blood marring my lightly tanned skin. Remembering Atma, I took one last breath and sliced the soldier down. How I had done so from such a careless position, I didn't know. Mother told me that Atma was only as strong as its owner, controlled by sheer energy. Perhaps my fear had driven it to unspeakable lengths. There was no time to contemplate my previous move. I crawled over the still-warm body, feeling my skin prickle with the motion. I badly wanted to scream for my father, for Edgar, for Ryland, but the rational part of my brain forced me to stay focused. I had to make it out alive.  
  
Audible howls of pain and loss were captured in the halls, my path finally lighted by the brillant fire at the heart of the castle. Bodies were strewn about the marble floors, blood crusting the grout in between tiles, staining the white baseboards and soiling the intricate pillars. A dank, heavy smell infiltrated the barely breathable air - the scent of death. I wanted to cry out like the others, an emptiness in the pit of my stomach forming from the loss of so many innocent people. I had to find my father...  
  
I scrambled to my feet, lightheaded and disoriented. A group of Imperial soldiers burst through the doors, barking out orders to one another. Atma's blue hue grew brighter despite my efforts to ease it. The men spotted me, taking note of my legendary weapon.  
"Would ya look at that boys?" The commanding officer cooed appreciatively. "The little girl has a big sword. Atma no less. Didn't think it actually exsisted."  
I kept a firm grip on my weapon, taking a few steps back as the soldiers approached. There's only a handful, I thought, sizing up the situation. I could take them.  
"How's about you give us that nice lookin' sword, pretty lady?" the commander offered with saccharine sweetness. "Maybe we'll spare your life... if you repay us with a few... favors."  
The lewd suggestion disgusted me and, wrinkling my nose in displeasure, I brought Atma down hard into his shoulder.  
  
The man yelped in pain, clutching his offended shoulder like a child. Blood oozed out between his fingers, dripping on the floor.  
"Kill the little bitch!" he demanded, referring to me. I ran, the soldiers hot on my heels. Afraid to look back, I rounded a sharp corner, finding that my exit was blocked by fire.  
"Where you goin' sweetie?" one of the men called out to me. Frantically, my eyes surveyed the room, looking for some way to get away from them. I didn't have much time to waste. A flash of silver shot towards me, and I reached out with my weapon to block the advance. The clash of metal could be heard as I fended off his attacks, focusing on the man who was now coming up from behind me. With a sudden burst of strength, I sliced through the man's cheek, turning to face my next enemy head-on.  
  
I didn't know how long I could last. Several of the men had been wounded by my hand, but I couldn't bring myself low enough to kill them, in spite of what they'd done. They were, after all, only following orders. As soon as I'd successfully warded off one soldier, two more would try to catch me from behind. The game was up when I'd been caught in a pincer attack. Knowing I couldn't fight them both off at once, I struck the man closest to me, knocking the blade from his hands. The other soldier managed a blow hard enough to put me in my place. I backed up against the wall, biting my lip against the sharp pain in my left arm, watching him with tentative eyes. So this is the end, I thought bleakly. Mother, Father, I hope you're alright.  
  
The devious smirk was wiped clean off his face as sultry blood rained down on my head. I ducked, catching sight long enough to see a red sparkle of light impale the man who had previously tried to kill me. Now unable to hide my affrightment, I tucked my head between my knees, praying for a quick end. I had no will left to fight.   
"Cadence!" his voice was hoarse, grating against the dying sounds of battle. I peered up cautiously, staring aghast at the blood seeping from his forehead, darkening his green hair. The vaulted ceiling was crumbling, bits of debris hitting the ground with a resounding smack.  
  
Ryland fell to his knees and wrapped his arms around me tightly. I hugged back, a few salty tears rolling down my cheeks.  
"What's happening?" I asked meekly, holding him at arm's length. He ripped off part of his shirt sleeve and bandaged up my arm, applying pressure to the wound.  
"Imperial army." he replied, acid lacing his tone. "Chappelle wasn't about to let my father upstage him. I'm sure they didn't anticipate full cooperation from Figaro, so this attack was planned well before the dinner had even started."  
I wrapped my arms around his neck and let him help me to my feet.  
"Why don't they burrow the castle in the sand?" I asked, sheathing my Atma weapon. Ryalnd shook his head.  
"Like I said, this attack was well thought-out. They threw a wrench in Figaro's operative machinery, quite literally. The gears are completely ruined; it could take days for a professional mechanic to fix. Obviously, we don't have the luxury of time."  
  
One of the supports came hurtling down, catching the thick velvet curtains on fire as well.   
"Come on!" Ryland called out, yanking me along by the forearm. "We have to get out of here!"  
"What about my parents?" I shouted back, trying to pry myself loose from his grasp. He just gripped tighter, forcing me to follow him out. "No! Ryland, please!"  
Didn't he understand? My mother, my father... they were... they had to be there somewhere. I wasn't going to leave without them, regardless if it cost me my own life just to find them.  
"Mom! Dad!" I screamed, ineffectually wriggling beneath Ryland's strength. I had to find them!  
  
Ryland and I scurried through the maze of fire, dodging tables and chairs that had been strewn about. He led me up a flight of stairs, my bare feet catching a shard of glass along the way. I yelped in pain, silently cursing myself for not slipping on a pair of shoes before I left my room. Ryland couldn't hear me; the sounds of battle were droning more heavily as we approached the outside balcony. I began to choke and chortle again, my body falling limpid. Ryland doubled back and picked me up, slinging me over his shoulder for the rest of the way.  
  
During that time, I had managed to lose consciousness, images of destruction still burning in my eyelids. A voice joined me in my temporary slumber, a voice I had thought to be Ryland's, heavy with concern for me. After a few moments of persistent chiding, I made out the mild, husky accent that branded my father's baritone.  
"Cadence!"  
  
Ryland had set me to my feet, and I winced. My father's amber eyes gazed back at me, a mist glazing over them. His face was covered with ash and soot, beads of sweat forming along his brow. Next to me, Ryland panted heavily, keeping an eye out for my next move.  
"How are things looking out there, Mr. Cole?" Ryland prompted, as I reached out to hug my dad. He gestured to Ryland, who held me back.  
"Thinning, but nowhere near over. This entire castle is going to hell if we don't hurry."  
"It'll collapse unto itself." Ryland nodded knowingly, ignoring my mewled protests. "How are we going to get out?"  
"Daddy!" I blurted out, and he came close enough to take my hand. "Where's mom, is she alright?"  
"Your mother is with Terra." Locke replied bluntly, the look in his eyes nowhere near comforting. "I'll see to it that they're alright." He glanced back to Ryland. "Get my daughter out of here."  
"I have to stay and fight for Figaro." he held his ground. My father shook his head sympathetically.  
"Look at the girl in your arms. Does she mean anything to you?" Awkward silence. "Then get her out. Take her far away from here, do whatever you have to, just make sure she's safe."  
"Daddy," I went on, blithely ignoring his entire speech. "Daddy, you have to get out of here too, we're all going to die if -"  
  
He patted my cheek lightly.  
"You'll see me again, Cady. I promise."   
Ryland hefted me back up over his shoulder, and I reached out pleadingly for my father. He turned his back regretfully.  
"No Ryland!" I shouted, nearly slipping from his grasp with my resistance. He was certainly fed up with my immaturity, but he didn't let it show. "We have to go back for my father!"  
"What, you want me to carry him out too?" The prince hissed haughtily in my ear. "I'm going to make sure you're safe, Cadence, I made that promise to your dad and I won't break it. He won't break his either."  
  
The scene unfolded before our eyes; complete chaos if I'd ever seen it. Frantic people were running around like chickens with their heads lopped off, squawking and carelessly swinging their blades. It seemed that the Imperial soldiers were beginning to retreat, and Figaro castle was crumbling further into the sand. No one cared for the place itself so much right then, taking wounded soldiers out of the mess and surrendering to the merciless sea of sand that surrounded them. I tore my eyes away.  
  
We ran around to the back, finding a small escape hatch which had yet to be ravaged by the fire. Ryland whispered a few soothing words to ease my nerves, and we swiftly, carefully descended the ladder.   
"I can walk." I croaked, betraying the hardened image I tried to put up. Sounding just as tired, Ryland sighed.  
"I'm not letting you go. We'll be out of here soon, just relax."  
  
How we'd made it so far without getting killed, I'd never know. I shifted my weight a little as we glided through the seemingly endless desert, hoping to alleviate the inevitable discomfort Atma's position along my hip was causing Ryland. He grunted, informing me that I didn't make things any better. A sudden burst of strength pushed Ryland to run another quarter-mile before setting me down. Once again, I grimaced, the glass still embedded in my heel, my head spining from the blood that had rushed to it during my time upside down. Reaching down, I plucked the sliver of glass from my foot, making a face at the dried blood. I looked up when I felt him staring at me, his chest heaving violently. Sweat and blood dampened his shirtfront, his lightly muscled arms laced with cuts and blossoming bruises. Green hair plastered his forehead, long bangs hanging in his eyes. Combing his unruly locks back, he gazed meaningfully into my eyes, stepping forward to brush my cheek with his fingertips.  
  
Instead of feeling a warm, heady sensation like I'd expected, his touch stung me. I remembered the wound across my cheek with a bitterness I'd never felt before. Physically, I was worse off than Ryland; my arm had stopped bleeding, but crimson rivers leaked down my face and legs, my hair rebelliously tangled around my quivering frame. We had made it out alive - but what about our parents? My father vowed we'd see each other again, as did he vow to keep Mother safe. Ever since Rachel, Dad was extremely cautious about making - and keeping - his promises, and I trusted him wholeheartedly.  
  
Looking away to face my distant view of the castle, I watched as the entire estate was swallowed by the bright orange blaze, greedy flames licking the charred sky in triumph. A throaty growl of utter anguish punctuated Ryland's perpetual silence, striking a chord deep inside of me. I turned back to him, unshed tears glistening in his eyes; he felt like a failure, no doubt. Like there was anything he could do about it, but that was Ryland for you. A blistering wave of heat swept over us, and the black smoke enveloped the haunting orange. Figaro castle was no more.  
  
Ignoring the pain in my foot, my throbbing temples, my aching limbs, I threw myself at Ryland, holding him as tightly to me as I could manage with my diminishing strength. He responded just as heartily, wrapping his arms around my undamaged waist and leaning his weight against me. I was sure he was exhausted as well, having carried my weight along with his own. He smelled of smoke, sweat, and - strangely - day-old cologne. I buried my head in the crook of his neck, wanting to drown out the tormented screams that echoed in my mind. His fingers tightened around my hair, parting the abused locks tenderly in an attempt to tame them. A few tears seeped into my scalp, and he sniffed the rest back. We were alive, we had made it out. I tried in vain to forget the burning questions in my mind, needing to calm myself before bringing unwanted rationality into the picture.   
  
He released me, but I still clung to him.  
"A few more minutes." I pleaded. He shook his head reluctantly.   
"We have to get out of here, Cadence."  
I loosened my arms from around his neck.  
"We could go back to my home in Kohlingen... I'll bet my parents are there, waiting for us." The idea brought me beside myself with joy, and I grabbed his collar exciedly. "I'll bet your parents are there with them! And the townspeople, they've always been good to me, I'm sure they'll help us... I don't know what with, but I know they'll help us..."  
Ryland put a finger to my lips.  
"Did you see that explosion, Cadence?" His voice was low, coaxing. I nodded meekly. "Do you think anyone could've survived that? The emperor wasn't out just for the kingdom of Figaro... he had it in for my father as well. I'm sure that if Chappelle wanted the royal family dead, he would go to whatever lengths he could."  
  
I backed away, disbelieving. "Then why are we still standing? Why are YOU still standing? Wouldn't he find a way to get to you too then?"  
"He probably will." Ryland replied dreadfully. "Which is why we can't endanger the people of Kohlingen. That's where they'll expect us to go - remember General Felix? He completely zeroed in on your location... among other things."  
I would've smiled at the jealousy in his voice, but I was too concerned to care whether Ryland was displaying his feelings for me or not.  
"My parents are alive." I told him with absolute certainty.   
"They may be," he spoke quietly. "But they may not be. And your father specifically told me I had to get you out of here, as far as possible. If he's alive, this is what he'd want. We can't stay on this continent much longer... they'll find us."  
  
Ryland turned his back to me uncharacteristically, and began walking in the complete opposite direction of Kohlingen.  
"What are you thinking?!" I demanded, jogging to catch up with him. "Where do you propose we go?"  
Tears of frustration blurred my vision. "Take me home goddamn it!"  
"We HAVE no home!" he yelled back, traces of saline effacing the soot on his cheeks. "We're on the run Cadence, don't you get it? That attack wasn't an accident! The Empire wants us dead, and they'll search from here to Triangle Island for us!"  
"Why would they do that?" I screeched, using anger to mask the hurt I felt when Ryland raised his voice with me. I could dish it out, but I couldn't take it. "If they wanted us dead, they wouldn't have withdrawn before completing the attack! They wanted your kingdom desecrated - mission accomplished! What do they care about us?"  
"I'm the rightful heir to the throne! If I'm still alive, there's a chance that Figaro will be restored, and they won't settle for that. They withdrew so they wouldn't go down with the place." His voice quavered for a moment, regaining composure quickly. "Their job isn't done."  
  
I snorted ungracefully. "So what? You leave then. This has nothing to do with me!"  
As soon as the words left my mouth I wished I could call them back and bury them deep within the recesses of my mind, never to be shown again. How could I say something so selfish? Didn't my parents raise me better than that? Ryland felt the impact of my words, his emerald eyes reflecting the worlds of pain I'd caused him. The hurt quickly turned into spite, and a resolute shadow passed over his eyes.  
"Fine Cadence," he snarled, walking closer to me. "You can go home. But when you get to Kohlingen and find an abandoned town, I'll be nowhere in sight." His voice lowered. "And when General Felix hunts you down, I won't be there to save you. I saw the way he was looking at you -" His voice caught in his throat. "You'd better pray that killing you is the most merciful thing he'd do."  
I shut my eyes tightly, Felix's hungry, predatorial glower branded in my mind. Instinctively, I wound my arm back and slapped the prince of Figaro, swiping my nails across his unblemished flesh. The satisfying smack seemed to echo, zephyr playing it over and over through the empty desert. Time stood still as blood welled up on his face, forming three shallow scratches. We remained silent, and I happily noted that the look of anger and outrage had been replaced with understanding.  
"Where are we going, Ryland?" I asked, trying to sound confident. He stood still for a moment and smiled, reaching out to ruffle my hair. "I was hoping we could catch a boat to the mainland. I want to find my uncle Sabin first and foremost."  
"Setzer could help us." I added, suddenly eager to find my surrogate uncle. "He's still got the Falcon in his possession, he could fly us wherever we need to go."  
Ryland put a hand on my shoulder to calm me down. I reached up and patted it with my own.  
  
The reality of our overwhelming situation didn't dawn on either of us till much later.  
  
***  
  
I suppose I might've felt guilty, but my empty stomach was far to pleased to protest, and when my stomach was satisfied, my mind didn't dare intrude. The Lobo had a nice, smoky flavor; the meat succulent and full of fat - a good thing when you've been living off of fungi and rodents for a stretch of time. At first I was a little reluctant in complying with Ryland's request to cook the poor creature. But after all, I did owe him, and I wanted to make him a good meal to show my gratitude (and my hunting skills). Besides, Ryland had been losing weight, the skin taught over his ribs and shoulder blades. I blushed at the thought. No point in letting a good breakfast go bad, especially when a growing young man with a high metabolism is present.  
  
Ryland himself seemed to be having quite a feast. I was glad I'd pleased him; it was the least I could do for his whole bodyguard mindset. After my run-in with the Lobo, I knew I couldn't play fair anymore and let something kill me. I had to defend myself, to prove that I could put my money where my mouth was. I knew there would be times where I wouldn't have an Illumina-wielding crown prince to take every hit for me; I had to be strong, tough it out. There could always be time for grief later on. We had a job to do.... and there was that lingering possibility that my parents were still alive somewhere...   
  
***  
  
A lot had changed in eighteen years... or so I had heard from my father one afternoon. I would ask my mother about things, but she'd lived a very sheltered life with the Empire, and was only allowed out of Vector on missions. She wasn't too aware of the smaller details, even though she'd taken two years off to travel with Locke. Added to which, Dad had about seven years over her, and a lot can happen in seven years as well.  
  
Ryland and I had travelled on foot for a grand total of six hours, stopping several times to rest, but never to sleep. I don't think we could have if we tried, and if we did, I was certain our dreams would be plagued with demons. The rosy colors of daybreak lit the horizon, bouncing off the rippling waters below. The waves crashed against the shore, restless and beseeching of the soft sand. My feet were sore, the soles being ravaged unmercilessly by the rough terrain. Ryland offered several times to help me construct a pair of makeshift sandals, but I'd adamantly refused.  
  
But, back to what I was saying... a lot had changed in eighteen years. We were headed towards a small town that had been founded only thirteen years ago by rich Jidoorian immigrants. Twille, it was called, trite and perky-looking, nested right along the coast. Ryland had learned of it while studying in Jidoor, saying it was an eclectic chip off the social block. Father and I talked about visiting, to see what the place was like, but upon deciding that it was nothing more than a slew of aristocratic egocentrics, we opted for more remote locations instead. Transportation was hard to come by these days, since only a select few ships ever left Twille and the continent's only source for imports was Figaro castle.  
  
It was our best shot at getting to South Figaro, along with catching a meal and a good night's sleep. Ryland estimated that it could be days, even weeks, before the Empire would begin to track us. By then we could already be in Narshe, and they'd never know it. Occasionally I would dog behind as we ventured closer to the town, staring off into space and thinking about the previous events that sent us on the run. Ryland would start talking, realize I was no longer beside him, and pace back to me patiently. Before setting foot along the Twille town limits, we strolled down to the beach, rinsing the blood and dirt from our bodies, clothes and hair. We stretched out along a few boulders in the cove, letting the warm summer sun dry us off.  
  
When we were satisfied that we didn't look too terribly injured, we retraced our steps back to the town. At first, the concrete and cobblestone burnt my feet, but I bit down and took it. Twille was a nice place; definately more old fashioned than the newly improved Jidoor, but certainly classier than Kohlingen. There were people mulling about at a leisurely pace; I assumed it was rather early to be up for such elite snobs as these. Now Cadence, I scolded myself, the mother in me showing her rarely-seen visage. Don't make assumptions.  
  
"Are you alright?" Ryland asked, a hint of concern lacing his tone. His hair was still wet, hanging in his eyes as always. My own hair hung flat and damp around the small of my back.  
"I'm tired. I'm hungry. I need shoes." I could've gone on forever, but Ryland got the picture quite clearly.  
"Fine, fine. I've got the money to take care of you, don't worry Cadence."  
I didn't ask how he'd managed to bring enough gold along with us, but it didn't really matter. I supposed a king's son had his ways of keeping gold with him at all times. If push came to shove, we could always sell our rings...  
No, I reprimanded myself. We can't give these up, there's too much sentimental value weaved into them.  
  
The buildings were small and quaint, unweathered and well kept. Shopkeepers swept the sand from the sidewalks, keeping the entire town immacculately tidy. I felt slightly out of place, my jeans ripped up to my knees, battle scars lacing my body. Ryland didn't look too refined either, having ripped off his other sleeve to bandage a wound on his leg. The townspeople shot us inquiring glances, reckoning us to be foreigners.  
  
Ryland walked ahead of me, examining the signs in store windows. We rounded a corner and he stopped, waiting for me to catch up.  
"We need clothes." He said, matter-of-factly. "We could probably get something in here, don't you think?"  
He pointed to the store in front of us, a funky little vintage shop next to an ice cream parlor. Peering in the display window, I wrinkled my nose at the tawdry yellow dress that an expressionless mannequin donned with pride. Still, it was better than the tacky tourista shops and pricey name brand stores. I nodded my approval.  
  
I never thought the day would come when Ryland and I would go garment shopping together, silly as it seemed. I separated myself from him, wandering off to a section of sale-priced racks. Poor Ryland looked a little confused; I guessed he hadn't done too much of his own shopping, being the prince of an esteemed kingdom and all. I giggled when he enlisted the help of an overly-eager salesclerk. Searching through the shambles of thrifty clothing articles, I quickly decided on a powder blue shirt and dark denims, accompanied by a dusty pair of tennis shoes. That was the way my mother and I were, always buying the cheapest things we could find, given that they were the right size and tastefully tailored. I swung the hangers over my shoulder, hooked the backs of the shoes in my fingers, searching for Ryland.  
  
I rolled my eyes in disgust when I found him. Several of the gypsy-like sales girls were oogling at him, holding shirts to his chest and looking at each other for approval. He grinned, shamelessly flirting with them. Just like his father.  
"How do you think this one looks on him Lauress?"  
The blonde girl named Lauress tilted her head, taking in a very pleasing view of the crown prince.  
"I think the dark green looks better. It matches those lovely eyes."  
The other girl, a short redhead with a strange headress pulled out a forest green tunic, made of synthetic materials. I curled my upper lip when he gave his mirror image an appraising once-over.  
"Stop admiring yourself, pretty boy, and let's go." I hissed. He turned to me, as did his two flouncy new friends.  
"Relax Cadence." he cooed, taking my clothes and setting them on the counter with his own.  
"How can I, after what happened last night?"  
  
The salesgirl who was ringing us up suddenly stopped.  
"Oh yeah, did you guys hear about Figaro castle? Such a shame."  
I turned to her, slamming my hands down on the counter, and immediately regretting the action. The noise startled both of us, and the stinging on my palms was rather unpleasant.  
"What have you heard?"  
She paused for a minute, staring hesitantly at my hands, then to the sword hanging at my hip.   
"Oh well there was quite a show of lights real early last night. There's been talk all over the town about what could've happened. A few men went out to survey the scene and found the place destroyed."  
"Yes," Lauress agreed, folding our clothes and disposing of the hangers. "They said there was no way anyone could've survived that. There haven't been any survivors found."  
  
Ryland paid her silently, his eyes downcast, killer smile fading into a thin line. She handed us our clothes, and I held mine to my chest, retreating into one of the two dressing rooms. Upon shutting the door behind me, salty tears were shed anew. She had to be wrong... it had only happened a few hours ago, no one could possibly know... and yet with all the commotion, it would be hard to ignore. The jeans were slightly roomy in the hips, but they weren't falling off, so I didn't complain. The shirt fit rather snugly, but it was light and comfortable. My shoes seemed pretty sturdy, but my tender soles would have to get used to them. I gazed at myself in the mirror, my pallid features looking haunted and afraid. There was still a fresh wound on my cheek, one that would probably fade into a lifelong scar. My hands trembled, reaching for Atma. I took a deep breath and wiped the tears away, exiting to find Ryland in the green shirt and a pair of khaki pants. The girls were still trying to get in good with him, but he was newly distraught over the news about Figaro. I reached for his hand and led him out.  
"Thanks for shopping..." Lauress called out, slightly disappointed. The little bell jangled as we left the store and headed down the street.  
  
"They've got to be wrong." I told myself aloud.   
"We can think about everything later." Ryland replied, scratching the back of his neck. "Right now we have to concentrate on getting out of here. Oh, and altering our identities."  
"Huh?" I faced him, confusion effacing my sadness. "Christ Ry, you're making me feel like a fugitive."  
"You're right." he sighed, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "But it's better to be safe than sorry. It'll make it harder for Chappelle to track us if we don't fit his description. Especially me." He muttered, blowing a strand of green from his eyes. I giggled. It *would* be difficult for Ryland to go unnoticed with his otherworldly good looks. I exhaled wistfully, remembering the shameless way those girls at the store had hit on him. They were so blatant, so unabashed about complimenting him. Too bad I couldn't be that open without feeling like my face resembled a tomato. He never did get to tell me what was on his mind after dinner. He had just disappeared until my time of need. A regular knight in shining armor, but was it enough?  
  
"Okay, I see your point." I responded, skipping ahead and walking backwards to face him. "How about we head on over to the general store and see what we can do?"  
He smiled at me, a deep, almost tangible melancholy betraying the action. Believe me, I thought. I know how you must be feeling.  
  
The small shop was certainly more refined than anything back home. Fresh, lightly scented air rushed towards us as we entered, filling me with a certain nostalgia. Almost like those Sunday trips I took with father...  
"Welcome." A pleasant, plump man greeted us, and we looked at each other before hesitantly smiling back at him. We perused the aisles, taking a minute to examine a few odds and ends. I came to a small section that had assorted makeup and hair dyes. I bent down, Ryland nearly tripping over me before he took note of my current position. I beckoned him to join me on the floor and he did, long legs folding awkwardly beneath him. Holding a selected box to his head, I made decisive little grunts.  
"Do I even need to ask?" He wondered aloud, staring me straight in the eyes.  
"We're dying your hair." I replied sweetly, liking the shade of dark chestnut I had picked out. "If you ever want to go unnoticed, you can't do it with those lime-colored locks of yours, now can you?"  
"I suppose not." I admitted after a few moments, and I frowned a little. I'd certainly miss those crazy tresses of his.  
"What about you?" He turned the tables on me.  
"What about me?" I echoed, fingering a long strand of golden brown. "I guess I could always cut it... I mean, the length in itself is a dead give away..."  
Ryland reached out and raked his fingers through my wind-blown mane, eliciting a purr of satisfaction from me. Both my mtoher and I were passionate about people playing with our hair.  
"Don't cut it." He ordered. "I like it the way it is. I've always wanted to..."  
He stopped, pulling his hand away. He certainly knew how to play the cards like his father, he just didn't go in for the kill. I huffed in disappointment, shouldering past him and setting the box on the counter.  
  
"Will this be all for you?" The man asked drearily, apparently tired of repeating the same line over again, every day of his life.   
"It sure will." I returned, forcing a chipper tone. Ryland recovered from his thoughts and joined me at the counter, pulling out a handful of gold with which to pay the man. The shopkeeper thanked us and we went on our merry way. Expecting to venture on towards a restaurant, I was surprised when Ryland stopped just short of the exit and handed me several gold pieces.   
"There's a hotel about two blocks north of here called 'The Oceanic Inn'. You can't miss it. Go there and get us a room. I'm going to run some errands while we're here."  
I stared disapprovingly at him.  
"What happened to being so adamant about leaving?" I snapped, peeved that he was turning me loose after making such a big deal of being my protector.  
He shifted his weight in exasperation. "I'm going to check and see when the next vessel leaves for South Figaro." He readily replied. "You can go ahead and get something to eat if you want, just don't wander off too far."  
"Yes father." I droned, rolling my eyes. He was not amused. Uncomfortable with displaying too much emotion, I lowered my voice. "You be careful too Ryland. I don't want anything happening to you."  
He gazed at me for a moment, his eyes deepening with unspoken emotion.  
"You just don't want to be alone."  
  
And he turned around and left.  
  
*To Be Continued*  
  
A/N: Alright, before people yell at me, or lose interest, I'd like to straighten a few things up. First of all, yes I took the liberty of creating my own town. I really wanted to refrain from putting too many new elements in the original story, but it was the only way to do this. Cadence and Ryland somehow needed to leave the continent, and taking into consideration that Figaro castle was demolished and there is no port in Kohlingen, I needed a new plan. Henceforth, I bore the town of Twille.   
  
Second of all, I would also like to clear this matter up - this is NOT a solely original work. I hate stories that revolve around only original characters set in the world of Final Fantasy. It defeats the purpose. These first two chapters serve to build up my own characters before re-introducing the canon players. I'm currently working Sabin and Setzer into the story, as well as a few others. I just need to establish the relationship between Cadence and Ryland before throwing them into an epic adventure.  
  
Third, don't let my summary fool you into thinking that Locke, Celes, Edgar, and Terra are all dead now. They may or may not be. Some may live, others may die. Cadence and Ryland are led to believe that their parents didn't make it out alive, which is why they make those kinda of references. Just note that at this point in my story, anything can and will be possible.  
  
Also, there may be some things you find factually incorrect. I know, I know, not all of the images I portray are completely plausible at times. But that's the way I write, and if I were to write pertaining to real life human fact, I wouldn't have a very good story on my hands. It's called Final Fantasy, not Final Reality. Anything could be possible.  
  
Lastly, I appreciate all the positive feedback I'm getting! I realize that most people don't give these "next generation" things much of a chance, but I hope you like this! From here on out, things are going to be rough-and-tumble for our heroine and her hero, and I promise there will be a lot mroe action and drama going on in chapter three! 


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